


In His Own Image

by orphan_account



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Canon Dialogue, Gen, Season 8 Episode 11: Nobody's Fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "So, your testimony is that Dr House's complete lack of concern is evidence of his deep concern?"Well, if that isn't House all over.Spoilers for Season 8, Episode 11: Nobody's Fault. Rated T for language.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	In His Own Image

**Author's Note:**

> because this episode hurrrts

“They've decided that your being stabbed was nobody's fault. They're wrong. I'm sorry.”

The nurse dutifully and supportively holding Chase's right arm wasn't expecting those words out of House's mouth. But Chase, as he sucks in quiet, but urgent, breaths that make his nostrils quiver, as he holds his arms taut and grips the railings and wonders how he could have ever taken standing, walking, without immeasurable, surreal fucking pain for granted, looks completely unsurprised.

_"I'm sorry."_

It hangs, in House's voice, and it's dreamlike and annoying and pointless, because it's all done with now. Chase has already taken a scalpel to the heart. He's already survived, albeit with a demanding recovery process ahead of him.

House trusts Chase. He trusts him to know that he _is_ sorry he got stabbed, and now there's only the two of them in this soulless rehabilitation gym - nursey over there doesn't count - he can finally say that. But he also trusts Chase to know that he's offering numerous other stuffed down, long-owed apologies in those two words. That it's his way of having conversations with Chase that he should have had years ago. Conversations that a past version of Chase might have been completely receptive to.

Now, though? Well, Chase no longer sees the point in talking. Chase has already spent ten years passively allowing whoever he might have become to be chipped away. Now, the damage is irreparable.

“ _I'm sorry, Chase,”_ he longs to repeat.

“ _I'm sorry you never stood a chance in life. Your childhood left you a total shell and you used to look for things to fill yourself up; now, anything that might make you full just feels boring, so you stay empty. I guess I made it look easier that way.”_

“ _I'm sorry you're divorced and alone at your age. I didn't want that for you. But I turned down the volume on the value of a human life, even a terrible one. You misunderstood that one, and I never meant you to, and your wife left you because of it. I take full responsibility.”_

“ _I'm sorry that you drink too much and screw around. You copied that from somewhere, and it certainly wasn't from Foreman.”_

“ _I'm sorry for the suffering and agony that's ahead of you while you learn to walk again. I'm sorry you're acting totally unfazed. I'm sorry you aren't panicking and crying and welcoming God back into your life.”_

“ _I'm sorry that you're pretending not to feel self-conscious about me seeing you in such a state. I'm sorry you have to act like fear and shame are foreign concepts.”_

“ _I'm sorry I hit you, I'm sorry I fired you, I'm sorry for every time you've suffered because of something I did.”_

“ _I'm sorry that I broke you.”_

Chase's response is immediate and subtle. So subtle that if House hadn't been watching so closely for it, if he hadn't been driven to see it by the kind of hope that would cripple you if you let it, he might not have seen it at all. Foreman wouldn't have noticed it. Maybe it would even slip past Cameron, but then again, she never really understood Chase at all.

But House doesn't miss it; the way Chase's eyes mist with gratitude. The way his mouth aches to smile, but obeys the direct command from his brain not to do so. The way he yearns to take solace in House, but inherently knows that to unmask his vulnerability would be nothing less than pathetic, even if he can't explain why. The way any evidence of this is gone so quickly that House might have thought he'd imagined it if he wasn't so familiar with it. 

“Anything else?” Chase asks, looking disinterested. Maybe even amused, as he adds, “I'm busy.”

For the first time, House is glad of the outcome of Dr Cofield's decision; that he's not to be suspended, to go back to jail, for causing this. For causing his longest serving fellow to spend a few frantic hours fighting for his life. For causing him life-changing injuries. He's glad, because it would be entirely superfluous. Chase's reaction is punishment enough.

But House doesn't emote, because it's pointless. He just shakes his head. “No. That was it.”

Chase may not have even heard him. He's already looking ahead, breaths shuddering and heavy, gripping the railings either side of him as he holds himself up. Giving unfamiliar thought to the very act of placing one foot in front of the other. But he doesn't express that he's terrified. He doesn't complain about the pain. “I've got it,” he says to the nurse instead, who smiles and lets him go.

And House makes for the door. He takes a few heavy steps before pausing, feeling the weight of his cane in his hand; throws a glance at the back of a head he could map out with his eyes closed, it's become so familiar. Chase fights to walk, and he moans in pain, and House understands. It hurts enough that he wants to stay. But he'll go find Wilson. He'll go mock Adams' stupid altruism, Park's stupid ideas. Taub _is_ just stupid, so he'll take his pick there. He'll carry on as normal.

Partly, he leaves because he's House and he needs to keep up appearances. Mostly, he leaves because Chase would want him to leave.

“ _I'm so sorry.”_ One day, whether Chase wants to hear it or not, he'll say it. _“I'm so, so fucking_ sorry _, that I've made you just like me.”_


End file.
